Long Way Home
by HorribleFanfics
Summary: Toudou loves Makishima, but he's scared to tell him. However, with impending war, he's running out of time. Will they be able to sort their feelings out despite the raging battles, or will the war ravage their relationship like it's ravaged their country? Toumaki AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yowamushi Pedal or any of its characters. Also, this is an AU. Please do not be upset if the characters are not exactly like those in the show/manga as I took my own liberties_

Chapter 1

I remember the first time I saw that hair. That strange, iridescent hair that catches the light when it moves in that indescribable way that it does when he walks. I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was halfway through junior year when he transferred into my class. Yuusuke Makishima. Strangely slender and pale, with that hair he quickly became famous for. I remember when the teacher introduced him and he just stood there uncomfortably until she dismissed him to his seat, and when he reached it, he sat there uncomfortably until class ended. I remember because he sat directly in front of me.

I didn't think we could be friends. His hair, although shorter then than it is now, was too long, and the color too strange; it made his whole appearance off-putting. In addition, he never smiled. Not once in the first two months I spent knowing him did I ever see him smile. People who refuse to smile are no fun to be around, and I, Jinpachi Toudou, refused to have my fun taken from me.

It wasn't until after those first two months that I spoke to him, when the teacher put us in pairs for math.

"Nice to meet you," he said in a voice smoother than I'd expected. "My name is Yuusuke Makishima." Hand extended. I shook it curtly.

"Jinpachi Toudou. Nice to meet you, Makishima." I'd flashed my most winning smile, and he had only diverted his attention to the work.

I don't know when my disdain turned to fondness. All I know is that it did. At some point I realized that I'd started considering Makishima before making any decision. Before I made plans- would he be able to go? Would he want to go? Before I mentioned any specific topic- would he be interested in talking about it? Uncomfortable? It's not safe to let one person become so important, but I let it happen anyway. I didn't care.

I didn't care that Makishima was on my mind so much because, at about the same time I realized that he was, I also realized that I loved him.

I'd dated girls before, and I'd liked them plenty, but it wasn't the same. I'd cared about them, of course, but I hadn't spent all of my time caring about them. They were all nice and sweet and pretty in their own ways. I liked them. But liking them was nothing like loving Makishima.

He, too, is nice and sweet and pretty in his own way. He has a way of speaking that makes you feel at ease, a gentle tone at the very bottom of his voice that would make the worst news seem tolerable. He has a way of walking that slows down to catch up with you, and he flows across the floor like he isn't even taking steps; if you didn't look at his feet, you might not know he was, because he never makes a sound. He's taller than me, but I hardly notice because he doesn't act like it matters like every other guy does. And his smile.

When he smiles, I can feel it in my chest, and I know it sounds cliche and untrue and stupid, but it's true. He doesn't smile big, only curving up the edges of his mouth slightly and lightly crinkling the corners of his eyes, but his smile is warmer than every smile I've ever made put together. When he smiles, his lip pulls the little mole near it up closer to his mouth, which in turn pulls my heartstrings, as if there's some invisible thread connecting them. When he smiles, I have to smile back, because it's like he's given me an irreplaceable gift. I cherish every one, and since I'm greedy, I'm always trying to get more.

I'm watching his hair and thinking about his smiles as we walk together now. His hair's gotten long, down past the middle of his back, and the way it bounces and sways with each step is mesmerizing. We're on our way to the bookstore after school. Some novel came out that he's dying to read, and he asked me to come along. Of course I couldn't say no, not when he was so happy and not when I might get to see that smile.

"Toudou," he calls, and I realize I've fallen several feet behind him. He walks back to me and resumes his pace. "We're almost to the store, so could you just please pretend you're interested for a little longer?"

"I am interested!" I assure him, but he looks unconvinced.

"I have seen the face of someone who's interested before, and yours is not it."

"I'm just a little distracted, that's all. There's a lot on my mind lately."

"What could possibly be on your mind that is more important than this book I'm going to buy?" he gasps incredulously. "I am offended, Toudou. I thought we were friends." He clutches his heart dramatically, and I have to groan to stifle an impending chuckle. He doesn't know that he's the distraction.

"We're here," he announces excitedly as he pushes open the door and the air conditioning rushes out to meet us. I follow closely behind as he nearly sprints to the back and starts combing the shelves carefully with his deep blue eyes. His foot taps the ground rapidly, impatiently, and his thin fingertips glide over the spines of the books, just barely touching each one at the same time his eyes reach it. If I knew what the book was called, I'd help, but I don't, so instead I just stand and watch him dumbly and listen to the rumble of traffic outside the shop over the too-quiet music coming through the speakers.

All of a sudden his foot stops and his fingers come to rest on the spine of a book on the shelf second from the top. As he pulls it gently from the row of identical spines beside it, his lips curl in that familiar way and my heart skips to keep up. He rubs his thumb over the cover like it's the most precious and beautiful thing he's ever seen, and at that moment I want to tell him how much I love him, but I don't because we're in public and I'm scared. _I__ promise I'll tell him_, I tell myself as he turns to walk to the register. _Just not now._

I follow him as he goes to buy it from the girl behind the counter who's cute and quiet and probably just his type. I'm jealous when he still smiles while he talks to her, even though it's just because of the book, because there's a small chance it might not be.

"What book is it?" I ask as we leave the store and step back into the June heat. He gives me a quizzical look.

"Why do you care?"

_Because I love you._ "Maybe I want to read it."

"You hate reading."

"That's not true!" It is definitely true.

"Really?" He looks unconvinced. "Since when?"

"Oh, you know. Always."

"Ah, I see. So if you have such a great love for reading, why have I never seen you reading a book?"

"That's because I sit behind you, obviously."

"Never heard a page turn?"

"Probably all that hair," I say. "Blocking your ears and all."

"Why are all the books on the shelves at your house dusty, then? As if they've, I don't know, _never been touched?_" I see his eyes twinkle, and I know he knows he's got me there.

"Because I usually... Go to the library...?"

"Do you even know where the library is?" Got me again. I sigh.

"Why can't you just tell me the name of the book?" He notices that I've changed the subject, but he doesn't mention it, and I love that about him too. He sighs, but I can tell he's not really upset.

"Look, I'll just let you borrow it after I finish. But you better not dare return it without reading it."

"I would never!" I might.

One corner of his mouth tilts up. "I won't forgive you if you're lying, you know. Really." I nod. We walk in silence for a while until we pass the post office, where dozens of boys around our age are lining up to get in. We don't say anything because we don't want to think about why they're there: the draft.

About a month ago, some guerilla soldiers opened fire on an embassy building in one of the countries we frequently trade with. At first they tried to send in politicians to patch it up with the locals, but it turned out to be more than they could handle. Their leader, KG Waren, had a lot more power and troops than the government anticipated. He refused to make any negotiations, and just kept sending troops in to raid the embassy. While the government was trying to evacuate the building and get everyone home, they launched an extreme attack and captured seven diplomats whom they then transported to a secret base deep in the country, a base which still has yet to be located. This escalated us directly into an all-out war. To ensure the crisis is not underestimated, all males have to sign up for the draft. Makishima turns 18 in a month. I turn 18 in two. Soon, we will be those boys at the post office.

"That'll be us soon," he says quietly, as if reading my mind, when we get far enough past the post office. I nod.

"We'll sign up at the same time right?" I ask. "If you just wait a few days after your birthday, it'll be thirty days before mine, so we can go at the same time."

"Of course," he says. "Better make sure you're not too busy reading, though. You might forget to go." I glance over to see a thin smirk.

"I'm not worried," I grin. "I've got you to remind me."

"Yes, what _would_ you do without me?" I laugh, but only to mask the fact that I really don't know.

I don't know what I'd be doing now if I hadn't met Makishima. I don't know what I'd do if he suddenly left. I don't know what I'd do if we went to war and lost him but not me. There's only one thing I do know.

I have to tell him I love him. And I have to tell him before we get shipped to the battlefield. Otherwise I may not get the chance.

_~author's note~_

_Yooooo thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed and I hope it isn't too cliche or dumb. I got the idea for this story so I really wanted to write it. Please do not be an anus about it. I am neither a professional, semiprofessional, micro professional, or even a teensy bit professional writer. Thank you. _


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yowamushi Pedal or any of its characters. Also, this is an AU. Please do not be upset if the characters are not exactly like those in the show/manga as I took my own liberties_

_Chapter_ 2

"I finished the book," Makishima says softly as we leave the school building. It's much hotter outside today than it was when we went to the bookstore three days ago, and that's when I realize we went to the bookstore _three days ago._

"You've already finished it?" I exclaim far louder than necessary. "It's only been three days!"

"It was and still is fantastic," he muses. "I would've finished it more quickly if I'd had more free time, though."

I shake my head in awe. Only three days. I have never read anything that quickly in my life, not even when I used to read the books assigned for school. And that was no thin book either. Three days. "You're a maniac," I tell him. "I can't believe you finished reading it that fast."

"Don't sound too disappointed," he says, a tiny grin playing at his lips. "Now it's your turn to read it.

I groan inwardly, and he slides his gaze over to me as if he heard it. " Normally I don't lend out my books, you know. But I'm willing to make an exception just for you because you wanted so badly to read it."

My weak smile gives me away, and he pats me on the shoulder. "You have to read it, Toudou," he says in a voice so sinister a chill runs up my spine. "There's no getting out of it now."

"Good. Because I totally want to read it."

"Excellent. I expect you to be able to answer basic questions when you give it back."

"A test? Are you kidding me?" I say. There is no hiding the panic in my voice. _Please don't make me read it. _"What are you, a teacher?"

"Of sorts." _Shit_. "Anyway, you can come by today and pick it up. I figure with your avid love of literature, you'll want to get started as soon as possible."

My heart jumps a little bit when he says I can come by. I've only been to Makishima's house one other time, and it was briefly, only to drop off his work when he had the flu. I hadn't even gone three feet past the front door before his mother collected the work and sent me on my way. This time I'll really get to see what it's like inside his house.

I've always wanted to know what his house is like. I know it's strange, but I've always felt like one of the best ways to get to know someone is by seeing how they live. You learn more about someone when you go into their room than you would by just speaking to them; for example, they may collect something, or they may have a precise way of organizing their things. It's fascinating to see that side of someone, and I want to be able to see this side of Makishima. It's only natural to want to know as best you can the person you love so much.

"Sure, I'll come get it," I say, hoping I didn't pause for too long or sound too excited."I am dying to read it, after all." He smirks.

"Race you to my house." The elicits a grin from me. He knows how I love competition.

"I'm definitely going to win!" I call as I'm already breaking out into a sprint.

I'm not sure if I really remember the way, but I feel a little more reassured with every turn I take. It's hot today, but I'm generating wind by running as fast as I can, and the way it glides across my skin feels too great to complain. I can feel my heart thrumming an excited tattoo in my chest, and I wonder if it's ever beat so fast before. It's beating so fast it's starting to hurt, but I can't let it slow me down. The endorphins carry me through the final few turns, and as my shoes skid for the last time and I start the straight dash for that big and beautiful house, a smile even crosses my face. My breathing is ragged by the time I reach the front door, and I have to lean against the house's exterior for support, but it was worth it. I watch Makishima round the last turn himself shortly after, and a smile is slowly stretching across his face as he approaches. When he reaches the door I see that he's breathing hard, too, and I wonder if his heart is beating as crazy fast as mine. He unlocks the door and quickly steps inside, whirling around only to say, "I forgot to mention this, but you have to be the first one inside. Looks like I win." _Damn you._

I frown, so he compromises. "Okay, you win if you beat me to my room. It's upstairs."

"Done," I say, and I'm already dashing up the stairs adjacent to the entryway. My heartrate still hasn't slow down; rather, it feels like it's speeding up even further. But it's only a short flight of stairs. Is it just because I'm with him? I don't have time to worry about it because I'm already at the top, and I turn and slide across the wood floor on my socks to face the room with "Yuusuke" plastered on the door. I'm definitely going to get there first, but as I sprint-slide down the hallway that feels way too long, I see the walls start to wobble and my feet start to feel like they aren't under me anymore. When I reach the doorway, my visions spinning, and my foot catches on the divide between the hardwood of the hallway and soft carpet of the bedroom. I can't stop myself from falling and instantly feel spikes of pain in my left knee and cheek as they smack the floor. My eyes won't open all the way, but I can hear Makishima calling my name. I might even feel his hand on my shoulder, but by this point everything's already going dark and numb.

When I open my eyes again, Makishima is sitting in front of me watching my face. His brow is furrowed and I hate seeing him look so worried, so I suit up to let him know I'm fine. It stings in my face and my leg, but it's not unbearable, and he seems to relax a little. "How long was I out?"

"Only a few minutes. I was about to call an ambulance or something. I'm glad you woke up."

"No need. I'm fine."

"You don't look so hot," he says, concern evident in his tone.

"How unkind," I say, offended. "I daresay the ladies would disagree with you." His mouth tries to half-smile, but he doesn't laugh.

"No, seriously." He holds up a mirror, and I see what he means. All the color has drained out of my face, even my lips. I look downright ghostly excepting just one thing: an enormous bruise on the left side of my face. It's all sorts of ugly yellows and purples and it is absolutely dominating. I don't expect to be looked in the eyes for at least a week. I touch it with a hand that I notice is also exceptionally pale, and it hurts so bad that I visibly wince, earning once again Makishima's worried expression. I look down at my left leg to see a nearly identical bruise, different only in that it is far larger, taking up the skin where my knee should be. I don't dare touch that one because I can already feel how much it's going to smart just by seeing it and instead turn my face back to Makishima and offer as much of a smile as I can manage given my facial situation.

"I'm good," I say. "Really. I'm just a little tired. And thirsty. Can I have something to drink?"

"Yeah, of course," he says, nodding so fast I think he'll get whiplash. "I'll get you some iced tea. Try not to move too fast or you might get dizzy. I'll be right back."

I watch him walk out the door, and after he's gone, I turn my head slowly to get a look at his room. It's different from what I expected. It's organized, like I figured it would be, but it's not as pristine and well-kept as I thought. Two or three stray shirts are on the floor and the bed is unmade, and I can see from my seat on the floor how scattered the papers on his desk are. However, on the far wall and in a state of nearly impossible neatness is a huge bookshelf, the obvious pride and joy of Makishima. There's not a speck of dust on it or the books, and just looking at it, I can see how much he loves it. There's several stacks of books on top, and next to it sits a chair with yet another, taller stack of books in the seat. I knew he liked reading, but I had no idea he loved it this much. I'm smiling like an idiot now because I'm just thinking of how he must've lovingly held all those books, and I look around and notice a few more things: spelling bee medals hung on the wall, a short stack of CDs peeking out from under the bed, a big poster on the wall above the headboard depicting a nature scene that gradually transforms into a space setting complete with stars and nebulae. I turn my attention back to the doorway just in time to see Makishima return with a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses.

"Go sit on my bed," he says, "it's more comfortable than the floor." I follow his instruction and take a seat on top of the tousled blankets, and he seats himself in the chair by the desk, where he sets the drinks. While he pours the beverage, he glances over at me tentatively. "Sorry it's not very, uh, clean. It usually looks like this, though, so..."

"It's fine," I say as he hands me my glass. "My room is easily 50 times worse. You know that." I take several long gulps of the drink and it cools me down. I can feel the color returning to my face, and I can see it returning to my hands. My heart is still pounding, but I don't feel like I'm going to pass out again, so it must just be because I'm with Makishima.

"That's not untrue," he says with a light smile, and it doesn't seem forced, so I must look fine by now. He smiles a lot more these days, I notice. It suits him. "So, the book." He gets up and crosses the room, picking the up the top book from the stack on the chair. When he brings it back and places it so gently in my hand, I remember the way he held it three days ago in the store, when I wanted to tell him how much I love him but didn't. I can see the way he looks at it now, with so much adoration, and I feel the urge again, but I'm still too scared. I look down at the book and stroke it with my thumb the same way he did, and I can just feel how well it's been loved in these three short days. It has a pretty white sleeve and a title in fancy cursive that's hard for my eyes to look at, and when I open it I can feel where his thumbs held the pages. If he can love this book so much, I can at least try.

I look up only to see him gazing fondly at the book in my hands, and I feel my heart clench up a little bit. _Look at me like that,_ I scream inside my head. _Love me like that._

Instead of saying something, I just watch him until he looks back up at me. I know any normal person would be creeper out, but if he is he doesn't say anything. He only smiles. Ah, my heart.

"I hope you like it," he says so sweetly I might get a cavity. "I hope you love it."

_If it's half as wonderful as you are, I think I might._

_~author's note~_

_Hey hey hey, thanks for reading! And thanks for feedback, any and all is greatly appreciated! I hope you continue to read and enjoy!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yowamushi Pedal or any of its characters. Also, this is an AU. Please do not be upset if the characters are not exactly like those in the show/manga as I took my own liberties_

_Chapter_ 3

When I walk home from Makishima's house, I feel every step in my knee and my face. I want to get home quickly, but with what happened earlier, I don't want to risk running. To distract myself from the pain and the agonizingly slow pace, I gaze at the book in my hands and study its cover.

The Prince's Poison, it's called. The title is black and curly and intricate across the front of the pale sleeve, and a lace like pattern is embossed under the words and on the edges. Parts of the sleeve are already softer and smoother where Makishima's fingers pressed down as he read, and I can easily envision the way he held it as he read. I can almost see him sitting at his desk, elbows on that mess of papers, smiling ridiculously and beautifully down at the page as he reads. Just the thought bring a smile to my own face, and before I realize, I'm back home.

"I'm home," I say as I walk through the door and start heading to my room. My mom steps out from the kitchen as I pass, though, and halts my progress.

"Welcome home, Ji-" she begins, but cuts herself off abruptly. At first, I wonder why she quit speaking so suddenly, but when I see her eyes bore into my face worriedly then migrate down to give a similar treatment to my knee, I remember. I still have those big, ugly bruises. I'd forgotten somewhere along the way home, but now that I remember, pain is shooting through them again. "Oh my god, Jinpachi, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, but this is obviously not the answer she wanted. Typical.

"You certainly don't look fine," she says, reaching out to touch my cheek. When I wince from the pain, she grabs my arm and drags me into the kitchen and forces me into one of the chairs at the table. "What happened to you?"

"I just fell, that's all." She doesn't look like she buys it, though, and I don't know how to convince her that it's the truth. "Don't look at me like that, mom! I'm telling the truth!"

"You fell, huh?" she says, and I can already hear the sarcasm in her next question. "Down how many flights of stairs, exactly?"

"Mom, _please._ I tripped and fell on the ground, okay? It isn't even that bad."

"Honey, have you seen yourself? It is that bad." She pinches the bridge of her nose for a second and looks back up at me. "Did you get in a fight? Tell me the truth. I'm not going to yell at you."

"I already _told_ you the truth!" I yell, exasperated, but her brow only furrows deeper. She still doesn't believe me. "I went over to Makishima's house to borrow a book and I tripped and fell on the floor." I lift the book up and wave it around frantically. "See? Book!"

She grabs the book out of my hands and turns it over carefully, looking at every inch of the cover. "This doesn't look like one of our books," she announces. I bring my hand to my forehead in frustration.

"That's because it isn't ours! It's _Makishima's_! I borrowed it. I said that didn't I?" She nods and hands the book back, looking at me as if she finally gets it.

"Why are you borrowing a book?"

"You know, mom, I don't really think that's the issue of utmost importance right now." This snaps her back to the main focus of the discussion.

"Right," she says, much to my relief. I don't really feel like talking about my motives behind reading the book. "So, you didn't get in a fight. You fell. How did you fall?"

"Well, I raced him up the stairs and to his room, but I got really dizzy, so I fell when I got there."

"How'd you get dizzy?"

"I'm not really sure," I say, getting concerned myself. "All I remember is my heart was still beating really fast from running all the way to his house from the school, and when I got to the top of the stairs, the walls started to move."

"I see," she says with a sage nod. "And what kind of floor does he have in his room? Concrete? Those bruises are pretty bad."

"No, it's carpeted." She raises her eyebrows so high that I think they might meld with her hairline.

"And you still got bruises that bad? I don't think that's normal. And the dizziness, too. I think we need to take you to see a doctor."

"I think you're overreacting. I just fell pretty hard," I say, hoping it convinces my mom that it's not a big deal. I hate going to the doctor. "And I'm pretty sure I was just dehydrated. I'll drink more water, so please do not make me go to the doctor."

"Alright," she says reluctantly, "but if something like this happens again, you are not worming your way out of it." I nod and hope to god that this is a one-time thing. Shortly after, my dad opens the door and greets us loudly like he does every day.

"I'm hoooome," he booms, walking into the kitchen. When he sees me, he stops in his tracks. "Jinpachi. Please tell me you have joined theater and that is stage make-up on your face. Please tell me that is not an actual bruise." When I say nothing, he continues. "Please tell me, then, that you are merely a doppelganger who got punched in the face very hard and that my actual son is in his room right now unscathed. Please tell me that your continued silence is confirmation of one of my theories." My mom and I glance at each other and offer weak smiles as consolation.

Over dinner, mom explains the entire ordeal to dad, but I have to keep interjecting to correct some accidental mistruths and to debunk various fictitious tidbits that she is for some reason making up on the fly. Dad accepts the explanation far more readily than mom did, but he still wants to take me to see a doctor. After vehement reassurance on my part that I do not need medical attention, I excuse myself and retire to my room with the book that has caused me so much trouble today.

I crack it open and start reading, and when I see a word on the third page and am not entirely sure what it means, I feel regret start to sink in. _I never should have asked to borrow this book._ I groan. _I never should have asked what it was. I should've just let him be. Curse me, curse me and my stupid curiosity! And curse Makishima, too, for being so lovable and interesting!_

However, after I finish the first chapter, I realize that I actually really like it. I like the way the sentences flow together, and I like the word choice, and I'm interested by the plot. Before I realize, I've read a third of the book and it's three in the morning. I curse aloud and try to fall asleep, but I can't stop thinking about the book and how tired I'm going to be tomorrow so it's a challenge. Eventually, sleep takes me, and I wake up feeling more exhausted than I can ever remember feeling before.

I drag myself out of bed and over to the mirror. My face looks a little better than it did last night, but not by much, and compared to normal, it still looks horrible. I can't do anything about it at the point, though, so I just push my hair back with a headband and get dressed like usual. It hurts to bend my knee, so putting my pants on is a struggle, but somehow through my haze of sleep deprivation I eventually manage to do it and make my way out to the kitchen for breakfast. It's then that I realize I'm so tired I'm not even hungry, so I just grab a granola bar and head out the door, figuring I'll probably make it to school right on time if I keep up such a sluggish pace.

It still hurts to take every step, but if I focus enough on something else, I don't feel it, so I distract myself by thinking about how great it's going to be when I finally sit down in my desk at school. After many grueling minutes of picturing my desk in various angles, I finally reach the school. I limp weakly to my desk and plop down in the seat immediately. I slightly over hyped how amazing it would feel, but I am relieved all the same, and I lay my head down and close my eyes only to be roused moments later.

I drag my face up from its position on the desk to see Makishima standing before me. "You look terrible," he says, but his voice is devoid of sympathy; his eyes twinkle. "And I don't just mean the bruise. Did you even go to sleep last night?"

"Yeah," I barely manage to get out around a yawn. "But I didn't... Until three." I lay my head back down on my right cheek and close my eyes. I am facing an internal conflict between my desire to talk to Makishima and my desire to sleep, but I'm too tired to decide which is really more important to me; my inability to keep my eyes open leads me to believe it is the latter.

"Whoa, three? You weren't at the hospital or anything, were you?" I can hear genuine concern in his voice now, and it's sweet, but I'm not awake enough to be touched. "Hey, don't go to sleep while I'm talking to you!"

"No... Reading..." And the next thing I know, it's third period.

I still feel awful, but I don't feel as awful as I did this morning. I can't believe I slept through two entire periods and then some without the teacher yelling at me to wake up. I look groggily up to the front of the class, and while I hear the teacher speaking, none of her words reach me. I look down at my desk to see a little note folded up resting near its front edge. I open it up as quietly as I can manage, which is still pretty loud, but the teacher doesn't say anything. I turn my attention to the note and the slanted handwriting that I know so well.

**_You can copy my notes later._**

A thin smile stretches across my lips and I look up at the waves of iridescent hair in front of me._ I love you so much, _I think to myself, then look around quickly to make sure I didn't actually say it aloud; if I did, the class is surprisingly accepting. I fold the note back up and try once more to pay attention to the lesson, but this time it's Makishima, not my exhaustion, that's distracting me.

By the time we're released for lunch, I feel like I can focus again. I stand up to go to the cafeteria, and an immediate throb in my leg gets me leaning against my desk and wincing. Makishima sets his hand lightly on my shoulder. "Are you alright to walk?" he asks, concern clouding his eyes. I smile in response and stand up straight. At a light not from me, he smiles back, and we start our journey to the lunchroom.

When we finally arrive and sit down, I tear into my lunch like I haven't eaten in days. I can't believe how hungry I am, even though I only had a granola bar for breakfast this morning. I finish my entire lunch in minutes and frown because I'm still hungry. I look at Makishima, noticing that he's just been watching me, and he starts laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" I ask, disgruntled. "There's nothing funny here."

"You are a ridiculous human being," he says through hearty chuckles. He hands me a cookie. "Take this. I'm not gonna eat it, and I can see you're still hungry." He smiles when he offers it to me, so I can't say no even if I want to.

"So," I say, shoving the cookie in my mouth. "Why didn't the teacher wake me up this morning? I've never slept so soundly in class before."

"You're kidding, right?" When I just look at him dumbly, he taps his finger on his cheek. I reach up to my own cheek, when when it stings, I remember that I have an enormous bruise over half my face. I groan. "She thinks you got beat up yesterday and had to go to the hospital or something."

"Christ! She's just like my parents!" I bury my face in my hands. After a few seconds, I realize something and look back up at Makishima. "Why didn't you tell her what happened?" He shrugs.

"I didn't want her to wake you up." I can't help but smile so big it hurts my face. _ What did I ever do to deserve you as a friend?_ "What're you grinning about?"

"Oh, nothing. So, about the notes," I say, getting straight to business. "I've been awake since third period, but I absolutely couldn't pay attention. So I'm going to need to borrow all of your notes from this morning."

"You really are ridiculous," he says while his eyes. "But fine. You can copy all of them."

"You're my hero!" I mean it, but he just waves it away.

"Yeah, yeah. Pay attention during the afternoon classes, though, will you?"

"Sure."

After the end of seventh period, the class rushes out of their seats and the classroom at a nearly superhuman speed. It's Friday, so everybody wants to get home as quickly as possible. Except for me and Makishima, of course; we walk slowly both because I'm in pain and because he's trying to dig notes out of his back pack. Finally, he hands them to me with a heavy sigh.

"That's all of them. You better copy them tonight, though, because I also need to study them and therefore am coming to retrieve them tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay," I say and hobble off in the direction of my house. It really won't be a problem. I plan on getting them out of the way as quickly as possible so I can get back to reading, and once I get home, that's exactly what I do. I copy them down almost verbatim in record time and fling myself onto my bed. It hurts my knee a bit, but I flip open to my stopping point and jump straight into reading anyway.

As I read, I start to like the book more and more. It follows a prince named Otgonbayar, the thirteenth son of his parents and the only one to survive more than a few days after his birth. By the time he's born, his parents are already old, and his mother dies when he's a toddler. When he's in his teens, his dad dies too, leaving him in power. He calls in love with a servant named Nergüi who plays music for him at his palace, and when he learns that one of his advisors plans to force out the town where her family lives, he goes to an apothecary to buy poison and puts it in his drink at a palace dinner, killing him. The entire palace is in uproar trying to figure out who the killer is, and as his other advisors start to connect the dots and he fears Nergüi may get blamed and punished, he poisons them as well. When only a few remain and he realizes what he's done, he fakes his own death by burning his room to the ground. He then flees to Nergüi's hometown and becomes a servant to her family, shrouding his face in a white veil his mother had left behind, both to hide his identity and hideous burn scars, which explains the cover.

After I finish the book, I look over to the clock and nearly fall off my bed. It's 5:15 _in the morning._ I can't remember if I even ate dinner last night, but my stomach growls loud enough to answer me. I stumble out to the kitchen, but it's easy enough to see with the early morning light coming in through the bottoms of the windows. I grab a granola bar out of the cabinet and eat it quickly, then shuffle back to my room. I let all my weight fall onto the bed and I'm asleep before I even touch the mattress.

I wake to my mom shaking me furiously. "Wake up, Jinpachi! It's NOON."

"But I don't have anything to do today, Mom," I groan, rolling away to press my face in my pillow.

"That doesn't mean you're allowed to sleep all day," she cries, forcing me to roll back over. "Get UP."

I sit up and rub my eyes, gazing over at the book on my nightstand. I can't believe I finished it so quickly. But I do think I understand why Makishima likes it so much. I think he likes it because the main character is so flawed, and I think he likes it because the main character recognizes that he's flawed. I also think he likes it because it doesn't have a happy ending, but it doesn't have a bad ending either, and I don't think he's the kind of guy to believe in perfect happy endings. I don't think I would've liked it half as much if I hadn't tried to read it through his eyes or borrows his copy. I can't wait for him to come get his notes later so I can return his book so we can talk about it.

At around four my mom tells me that she and my dad are going to have a "date night" and won't be back until late, and that's when I make a decision.

When Makishima comes over later, I'm going to tell him that I love him.

_~author's note~_

_Thanks for reading! This chapter is a little long, sorry. I'm gonna hurry with the next one._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yowamushi Pedal or any of its characters. Also, this is an AU. Please do not be upset if the characters are not exactly like those in the show/manga as I took my own liberties_

_Chapter_ 4

I sit on my bed and stare at the ceiling. The clock that I've looked at thirty times in the past minute tells me it's 5:03, which means it's been a little more than ten minutes since he texted me telling me he was on his way over. Which means he should be arriving any second. I groan.

I'm still tired from my ridiculous all-nighter, and since I've decided to confess my feelings to him today, the butterflies in my stomach aren't helping. It's to the point where I'm almost dreading his visit; almost, but not quite. I could never really not want to see him.

When I'm sure he must be mere seconds from the door, real panic sets in. I realize that I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to get the words out. I can already feel a lump in my throat, like I'm preemptively choking on the words. I can feel my face heating up because of how embarrassing I'm probably going to sound, and I'm about to break a promise with myself and call the whole thing off when I hear the doorbell ring. Thi jolts me back to reality quickly, and as I walk to the front door to open it, I remind myself that it's now or never, and even though I know that's not in the least but true, it steels my resolve.

"Yo," he says when I open the door, and for a second I'm a little taken aback. It's been quite some time since I've seen him in something besides the school uniform, and I forgot how wild his style of dress is. He sees me staring and the corners of his mouth turn down into a pretty frown. "Don't you dare say anything about my clothes."

"I wasn't going to," I lie, stepping aside to let him in. "Oh, by the way, I have some news you'll enjoy."

"Really? What news could that possibly be?"

"I finished the book," I say and turn to face Makishima, who is staring at me wide-eyed. A proud smile stretches my face when I see his astonishment. "So you can take that with you too."

"Toudou! Did you really finish it already?" After I nod, a smile lights up his entire face. Coupled with the twinkle in his eyes, I'm half-tempted to kiss him, but he resumes talking just in time to save me from really doing it. "I can't believe this! Toudou, I really am impressed. Did you like it? We have to talk about it!"

"Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't have stayed up 'til five this morning if I didn't like it, you know." For this I am rewarded by Makishima's smile growing even wider and more dazzling.

"Five in the morning?" He blinks incredulously, maintaining his smile all the while. I'm sure it must hurt by now, but I'm not going to be the one who tells him to stop. "Toudou, you're amazing." _ No, that's you._

I start walking to my room, where the notes and book are, and Makishima follows me eagerly. I can still feel him smiling even though I can't see it, and it's bringing a stupid blush to my face. I can feel it burning in my ears and I hope Makishima doesn't notice, even though I know he won't say anything if he does. By the time we get to my room, I think it's subsided enough for me to look him in the face, and when we sit down on my bed together, his eyes don't betray anything; all I can see in them is that beautiful smile.

"So," he says. "I have some questions I want you to answer." He proceeds to ask me a multitude of questions, and they're nothing like what I thought they'd be. The first few questions are what I expected, the names of the prince's advisors and Nergüi's hometown, but after he's asked about five of them, he delves into a whole new level of questioning. These new questions are all about symbolism and undertones and I feel like I'm actually being tested on the book. After I'm on the point of developing a headache from Makishima's explanation about the motifs and symbols in the book, he looks like he notices my pain and stops. He transitions then into questions on my personal feelings and interpretations, and they're pretty easy for me until he gets to the last one.

"So Toudou," he says, the glint in his eye not having faded since the advent of the interrogation and the giddiness still bouncing in his voice. "Final question. Why do you think Otgonbayar didn't tell Nergüi about his scheme to fake his death?" I think for a second.

"Probably because he didn't want her to tell anyone, right? I mean, she might not be able to keep the secret."

"I think you're partially right."

"Partially?" I cry, incredulous. "What am I missing?"

"I think it's true that he was afraid she might let it slip, but I think there's more." His eyes soften. "You remember, of course, that Nergüi didn't know he was the one killing the advisors?"

"Yeah, duh. Why would he tell her?"

"Yes, exactly! If he had to explain that he was faking his own death, he'd have to explain the reason as well. And why, Toudou, why do you think he wouldn't want to tell her the reason?"

"Because he's a murderer, obviously!" I exclaim. I'm getting exasperated and I just want him to get to the point.

"Yes!" Makishima practically yells. He's getting more excited by the moment. "And who could love a murderer, right? Sure, he did it for _her,_ but she never asked him to. And he knows that. So he didn't tell her about his plan. Because he'd rather she think him a great man in death than a monster in life." After he says this he pauses and just stares at me, waiting for me to get it. I do, but I don't want to let on. I need to keep looking at him, need to keep this image burned in my brain. His eyes are shining, filled with every thought he's had about this book, and he's sharing them all with me, and he's so excited. And I love him. I love him for being so excited and so passionate and so great. I love that way he's looking at me, his eyes all wonder, and I want him to look at me like that forever. I love him happy and excited, in the morning and in the afternoon, at school and here with me. I love him all the time and everywhere, every way he is. And he deserves to know. I suck in a deep breath.

"Yuusuke," I say, catching him off guard. A little bit of the twinkle fades from his eyes, but he's still captivating. "I love you." Surprise is evident in his eyes and his lips part, but I hold up my hand to stop him from speaking. If I can't get this all out in one go, I might not be able to do it at all.

"I love you," I repeat with a firmer inflection in my voice. "I love you, and let me clarify. I don't love you like a brother or a close friend. I love you like I am _in_ love with you and I want to be with you. I love everything about you. I think you're absolutely mesmerizing and amazing in every way. I love the way you act when you're excited about things. I love how you let me borrow your notes when I sleep in class and your books even when you suspect I won't read them. I love the way you walk, I love your voice. I love your hair and your moles. I love your smile. I love absolutely everything about you. And even if you don't want to stay friends now that you know, I'm still going to love you." I take a few deep breaths after I finish, and that's when I notice Makishima's face has turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. I realize with guilt that it's probably been getting redder the whole time I've been speaking. I forget too easily what a shy guy Makishima is. _Damn it,_ I think. _I'be really screwed it up now. He may never speak again._

However, after a few minutes of just sitting and looking at each other, he looks prepared to say something. His face is still just as rosy, but he looks significantly calmer. He reaches out and gingerly brushes to fingers over the top of my hand, maintaining eye contact all the while. "Jinpachi," he murmurs. I can barely hear him over the insane pounding of my own heart, but I still color when he uses my first name. "Is all that really true? Is what you said just now... true?" My heart skips a beat. His tone is so soft and unsure. I want to hug him.

"Of course it's true," I say, trying unsuccessfully to keep my voice from wavering in nervousness. "I wouldn't lie about that." He offers a slight nod in response. I want him to say something else, anything, but he just closes his eyes and takes in a breath. I can feel my heart hammering against my chest, I can hear it in my ears, and it's starting to hurt. I want to scream at him, I just wanted him to say something, and at the very moment I'm sure I'll burst, he leans forward to meet my lips.

I'm so shocked I fall back on the bed, lucky enough to have my head land on the pillow, and he falls on top of me. He pulls back from the kiss quickly, but the sweetness of his lips still lingers on mine. He pushes himself up with his arms to stare down at me, his hair falling down all around, a dizzying waterfall of green.

"Jinpachi," he nearly whisper, and it brings heat to my face. "Is it really true?"

"You keep repeating that," I say, reaching out to twirl some of that beautiful hair in my fingers, "but I've already answered you, haven't I? It's true, all of it." He brings his face to mine and places another light kiss on my lips.

"I love you," he says so quietly I can hardly hear, even though he's speaking directly in my ear. My heartbeat only quickens to make it more difficult. "I love you." He looks just in time to see surprise overtake my every feature. "I love you," he assures me, relading his arms so his body drops onto mine. "I love you so much. I love everything about you. I can't say it quite like you can, but it's true. I can't believe it." He's so quiet now that I might not now he was talking if I wasn't watching his lips so closely. "I'm the luckiest guy on the planet. I'm so lucky, and I just can't believe it." When he sighs out the last few words, I bring our lips together again. He's sweeter every time, and I'm surprised to find something new about him to love that I didn't already know about.

After a few more kisses, of which I will always want more, he nestles into my side and throws his arm over me, head nestled in between my shoulder and neck. I'm not sure if it's comfortable, but he seems to be perfectly content, and so am I. It's nice just to have him here. I like feeling the warmth of his body next to mine. It's comfortable and nice, holding him like this, being with him. I run my hands through his hair and it's soft and he's beautiful and he smells nice, and I would give anything to fall asleep right now and wake with him still by my side in the morning. But that's unreasonable, obviously.

He can't stay forever, and his parents are probably expecting him home soon. After a few hours of lying like this and telling each other how lucky we both are, it saddens me to see him shuffle out the door, books and notes in hand, wearing a delicate smile on those soft lips. When I go to bed later, I find that I can still smell him on my pillow, as if he left a few flower petals behind just to keep me company. I inhale deeply, and a ridiculous grin stretches itself across my face because I know that I'm the _real _lucky one here.

_~author's note~_

_First of all, sorry. I said I would hurry with this chapter and I didn't. Second of all, I hope it's not too mushy, but at the same time, if it is, I don't really care that much. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!_


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